This London Love

by Clare Lydon

  ***

  Kate had laid out six pages of this month’s magazine when her finger idly clicked onto the Fabulous Flowers website. It had been almost a week since she’d seen Meg and she couldn’t quite get her image out of her head, no matter how hard she tried. Which admittedly hadn’t been very hard. Kate’s fingers drummed on the desk as the website eased onto her screen. She automatically clicked onto the About Us page and saw an image of Meg and her mum smiling back at her. Meg had her mum’s eyes and mouth, and her mum was an extremely attractive woman.

  Just laying eyes on Meg had Kate’s stomach dropping — she had to visit the florist’s again, it seemed ridiculous not to. Seize the day and all of that. Yes, she didn’t know yet whether or not Meg was a lesbian, but she was never going to know unless she… What exactly? Stalked her? Pestered her? Went into the shop wearing her rainbow scarf and her ‘This Is What A Lesbian Looks Like’ T-shirt?

  Slightly over the top. Perhaps just the scarf.

  Sunflowers. Kate loved sunflowers, loved the way they drooped and then sprang to life as if they’d been playing you all along. So maybe she could show up with a sunflower urge and Meg would be none the wiser. She could even stop off and see her mum later, take her some of the sunflowers — she knew her mum would like that. Kate could ask how things were progressing with Lawrence, if they were at all. Talking of which, she really must speak to Vicky — her reaction to their mum’s date had been bordering on absurd.

  But back to Meg. Seemingly, Kate had made a decision. With no firm plans of her own this Friday night, Kate was going to go round to her mum’s for dinner and stop in on the way to say hi to Meg. See how her week had been, like any normal friend would.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw fingers clicking. Kate snapped out of her daze to see Henry trying to get her attention. He’d been to the barbers that morning and his beard was closely trimmed and softened to perfection. It was a magazine tradition now to stroke Henry’s beard daily. Kate swore she’d never felt hair so soft.

  “You coming to the pub later?” Henry asked.

  “Pub?”

  Henry rolled his eyes. “You know — big building, serves beer.”

  Kate shook her head. “Don’t think so. Otherwise engaged.”

  Henry nodded towards his screen. “Buying flowers again?” He curled up one side of his mouth.

  “Going to see my mum — can’t turn up empty-handed, can I?” Kate nudged Henry gently on the arm. “Anyhow, stop being so nosey, Mr Beard.”

  “You wanna touch?” Henry leaned forward and jutted his chin towards Kate.

  She stroked and let out a satisfied purr. “You could honestly sell that to insomniacs. Or maybe even market it as a pet substitute — for people who want the soothing aspects of our furry friends without the hassle of walking or feeding them. You’d make a killing.”

  Henry twirled in his seat, letting his head fall back as the seat spun around. “You might be onto something there.”

  ***

  Kate’s breathing was heavy as she exited Finchley tube — she’d decided against her bike tonight to ensure she wasn’t too sweaty on arrival. This kind of behaviour was completely out of character for her — she was used to being chased rather than being the chaser. She wasn’t one to blow her own trumpet, but she was rarely short of female attention. So long as you didn’t count the past year and a bit. Which Kate definitely didn’t.

  Her last girlfriend had seemed exactly what Kate was looking for: Caroline had been edgy, gorgeous and a nurse. And nothing to do with the media industry, which Kate had warmed to. Kate had slept with too many media types in her time and she knew them back to front before they even opened their mouths.

  With Caroline, it was different. She was a couple of years older, definitely wiser and not at all star-struck by what Kate did for a living. Plus, she was a nurse, which as everyone knew was a proper job. However, somewhere along the line, Caroline had deviated from their agreed path, met someone else and their relationship was brutally killed. Kate had been devastated and it’d taken this long to get over it. But now, here she was, ready to lay the curse of the past once and for all. With a woman who might not even be gay. A bold and somewhat dicey move.

  Kate’s feet moved along the cracked pavement, the September air still around her. It had that clammy feel to it, almost like you could squeeze it and shape it. The air was light on her skin, and at 5pm, it held the promise of a glittering Friday night to come.

  However, having willingly travelled the distance between the tube and the estate agent next to Meg’s shop, Kate panicked. What was she doing? What if Meg wasn’t even there? What if her make-believe boyfriend Phil was coming in to sweep her off her feet with chocolates and flowers? Could florists be swept off their feet with flowers, even?

  Kate swallowed hard. Her nerve was leaving her, running off down the street. She stopped, stuck to the pavement, now completely focused on the estate agent’s window display. She could buy a nice flat up here if she sold hers. Perhaps even stretch to three bedrooms. But then she’d be living far too close to her mum and Kate liked a bit of distance between them; it stopped any unannounced popping in, which was a favourite pastime of Jess’s mum.

  Kate moved to the left of the estate agent’s window and craned her neck to check if Meg was in the florist. She couldn’t quite see. She shuffled a bit further left. Then she tried to poke her head around the window frame, but only succeeded in banging her nose. Damn it. Kate recoiled, cursing.

  She looked at another flat she would never buy, before trying to see into the florist again, but she couldn’t see past an enormous plant in the window. She stood on tip-toes — still nothing. Kate moved as far left as she dared without giving herself away, craned her neck again, but couldn’t see anyone. She was straining every muscle in her body to see something — and then, jackpot! Meg walked in from the back of the shop looking radiant, carrying a white mug.

  Kate beamed — it was an involuntary response. However, distracted by Meg’s sudden appearance, Kate’s body forgot it was in a precarious position. She was straining too far left, her weight too focused on one side. In an instant, her pulse quickened as gravity took over and she fell sideways, crashing down on the pavement with a resounding thud, only just managing to stick out her arm to break her fall. She lay on the ground, not quite believing what had just happened. Her left arm was throbbing, but it wasn’t quite as bruised as her pride.

  She heard the bell of the flower shop jangle and then Meg was standing over her, concern etched on her face.

  Perfect. So much for Kate’s cool, calm and collected entrance.

  “Are you okay?” Meg crouched down and put her hand on Kate’s shoulder. “What happened? I just looked up and saw you kinda falling in front of the window.” She searched the pavement for an offending item. “Did you trip on something? Or faint?”

  Kate’s face was flushed with embarrassment and it was oozing down her neck, her chest, her entire body. She sat up, trying to get her breathing under control, then pushed herself up to a standing position. She winced and clutched her arm, but still managed a half-smile for Meg.

  “I’m okay — my arm and hand hurt, but I’ll live.” Kate avoided meeting Meg’s concerned gaze. She might as well have the word ‘idiot’ tattooed on her forehead.

  “You’re bleeding,” Meg said.

  Kate lifted her hand and sure enough, the skin on her palm was cut and grazed, blood pooling at the surface. Nausea rose in Kate’s throat and she felt faint.

  “Come into the shop and grab a seat — you must be in shock. The council only redid these pavements recently, too.” Meg put an arm around Kate and guided her into the shop.

  “Probably my fault, not picking up my feet,” Kate said. Her grand plan of action was now out the window, but she already had Meg’s arm around her, so she wasn’t doing too bad. As Meg tightened her grip and led her to one of the shop’s chairs, Kate’s legs faltered. Did she just wobble? Embarrassingly, Meg felt
it too and gripped her shoulder tighter — it hurt like hell, but Kate said nothing.

  Meg sat her down and waited, crouching beside her. Was she worried Kate was about to fall sideways to the ground?

  “I’m okay, really. You don’t have to look so concerned.” Kate tried to deflect her attention.

  “I am worried, though — my cousin had this thing where she kept fainting for no reason. Do you think you fainted? Perhaps you should see a doctor.” Meg sized Kate up, but didn’t wait for an answer. “Wait there — I’ll go and get the first aid kit.”

  Kate watched Meg go and hung her head. She didn’t think this casual visit could have gone much worse, but at least Meg seemed worried about her, so she’d take that. The doctor thing was going a bit too far, but she wasn’t about to tell her the truth.

  Meg reappeared with some antiseptic wipes which she applied to Kate’s hand, making her wince.

  “Sorry, I know this must hurt,” Meg said.

  “S’fine,” Kate lied.

  When the wound was clean, Meg carefully applied a thick plaster over the top, pressing down gently.

  Kate tried to steady her airflow as she breathed in Meg’s musky perfume, studied the top of her head, then smiled into her eyes as Meg looked up into hers. Yep, she had it bad.

  When Kate was all cleaned up, Meg rose to her feet and threw the debris in the bin.

  “What were you doing round here, anyway? You don’t work nearby, do you?”

  Kate shook her head and flexed her injured hand. “No — I’m just going to see my mum, so thought I’d stop by to say hi and get some flowers for her.” Kate smiled. “So then I thought, why not throw some amateur dramatics in for good measure?”

  Just at that moment, a woman stepped out from the back of the shop, and that woman could only be Meg’s mum. Slim, tall and with what Kate presumed was dyed golden blonde hair, she oozed sophistication and glamour. She was looking down, pulling her pink shirt out of the sleeves of her navy blazer as she spoke. She also had long, slender hands, just like her daughter.

  “Did you say you were doing anything tonight? If you’re not, come round to mine — better than hiding in your room like I know you will.” Meg’s mum looked up and was startled by Kate’s presence. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realise we had a customer.” She squinted at Kate. “Are you injured?”

  Kate held up her hand. “Just fell over outside.” She wiggled her fingers. “My hand hurts, but my pride is more bruised.”

  “This is Kate — we did the flowers for her uncle’s funeral earlier in the week,” Meg said. “She was just coming in to get some flowers for her mum, before she collapsed dramatically in front of the shop.” A smile was playing on Meg’s lips. “This is my mum, by the way,” she told Kate.

  Kate got up and shook Olivia’s hand. Kate’s knee hurt too, as did her hip. She glanced down, but her jeans were still in tact.

  “Nice to meet you,” Kate said.

  “You too,” Olivia replied, giving Kate the once over. “Does your mum have any favourite flowers?” Olivia’s eyes were the colour of Meg’s.

  Kate cleared her throat and sat back down. “She likes sunflowers. And lilies.”

  “Loads more to choose from — have a look around, see what you fancy.” Meg’s mum doubled back round the counter and gave Meg a kiss on the cheek.

  “Lovely to meet you briefly, Kate, and I’m sure Meg can handle things from here.” Olivia raised an eyebrow at her daughter. “And remember what I said about later — I’m in if you’re free. Or else we’ll go for a roast on Sunday. Invite Jamie, too. Okay?”

  Meg nodded. “Okay.”

  Olivia smiled, her work here done, turned on her heel and left the shop, the door rattling in its frame.

  Meg turned her gaze back to Kate. “And that’s my mum.” Meg rubbed her cheek nervously. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Kate shook her head. “I’m fine, honestly.” But Kate was far from fine, not after what Meg’s mum had just said. More specifically, one word she’d just said. Jamie. Was he the deal-breaker? Was he Meg’s boyfriend? She hoped beyond hope he wasn’t. In fact, she didn’t think she’d ever wished anything quite so much.

  Kate searched her brain for something to say other than “Who’s Jamie?” It took her a moment.

  “Your mum seems great — and very stylish, too.” Kate got up and walked towards the counter, trying to ignore her heartbeat racing in her chest. Being this close to Meg did strange things to her.

  “Yeah, she’s pretty cool most of the time,” Meg said. “Anyway, enough of my mum — let’s focus on yours. Sunflowers, right?” Meg walked over to a chrome vase of sunflowers on the right of the shop.

  Kate followed her. “She likes them and they’re a classic, aren’t they?” Kate had forgotten what piercing turquoise eyes Meg had as they stood next to each other. Kate flicked her gaze away from Meg to stop herself staring, but when she looked back, Meg was staring directly at her, her gaze lowering briefly to Kate’s lips, back up to Kate’s eyes and then down to the sunflowers.

  It’s safe to say that flowers were the furthest thing from Kate’s mind. In fact, standing here with Meg was a painkiller for her hand too. All Kate could feel was Meg’s proximity and presence. Man, did she have presence.

  Meg nodded, but she seemed distracted. “An absolute classic,” she said. “Nobody turns their nose up at sunflowers.” Meg grabbed a handful from the vase and turned back towards the counter without looking at Kate. She plucked two sheets of pink tissue paper and placed the flowers neatly on top. Kate watched as Meg’s strong, skilled fingers wrapped the flowers expertly. When she was done, they both looked up at each other and there was another, weighted pause.

  “So you’re not doing anything tonight?” Kate’s mind was screaming the word ‘Jamie!’, but she seemed to have lost control of her mouth.

  Meg shook her head. “Weddings tomorrow, so an early night for me. It’s been a long week.” She paused, glancing at Kate. “But it’s great to see you again.” Another pause. “How did the funeral go by the way? Were the flowers okay?”

  Kate nodded briskly. “Went well — and the flowers were a hit. In fact, I still have some at home.”

  Their eyes locked again, but this time, neither looked away.

  “I’m pleased,” Meg said.

  Kate swallowed as Meg walked slowly around the counter and stood next to her again. She was far closer than she needed to be and Kate’s body whooshed to life.

  Meg reached over and picked up the sunflowers. “The flowers are on me — a gift to your mum and a thanks for your custom.”

  But the words swam past Kate’s ears. She was now firmly in Megzone, where all rational thought flew out the window. As their gazes locked once more, Kate had never felt more sure. She wasn’t misreading the signals, was she? She was sure the heat in her gaze was reflected back in Meg’s eyes. Or maybe she was wrong — where Meg was concerned, Kate’s circuits were shorting.

  The word ‘Jamie’ was still a flashing neon sign in Kate’s mind, but right in front of her was Meg’s perfect face, Meg’s rouged lips, Meg’s searching gaze. Meg. The air around them was hot with intent as Kate made a decision to throw her cards in the air. Right now, she didn’t care a jot if there was a Jamie — that particular fallout could wait for another day.

  Kate’s blood roared in her ears as she leaned forward to press her lips to Meg’s. Kate closed her eyes, steadied her hand on the counter and then opened her eyes wide and let out a high-pitched scream as pain shot up her left side. Kate jumped up and clutched her injured hand, eyes scrunched up.

  Meg’s eyes shot open too at the piercing sound, and just at that moment, the florist bell rang.

  Both Meg and Kate turned their heads as a woman walked through the door, giving the pair a puzzled look.

  “You okay?” Meg whispered to Kate.

  Kate shook her head and waved Meg away. “I’m fine — go see to your customer.”

  Meg gave Kate a paine
d look, before turning to greet the woman.

  Kate was left leaning against the counter, her heartbeat still thudding in her chest, pain still catching in her throat as she cursed her luck. She heard the word ‘wedding’ fall from the woman’s lips and knew instantly the moment had passed and that Meg was now back to work, a world away from kissing Kate. If that’s what had been about to happen?

  As the woman and Meg approached the counter, Kate picked up her sunflowers and slung her bag over her good shoulder. Kate couldn’t quite read Meg’s face as she tapped her on the shoulder.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but I’m gonna shoot off.”

  Meg’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you?”

  Did Kate detect resignation on Meg’s face?

  “Thanks for these.” Kate picked up the sunflowers and cradled them to her chest. “Mum’s going to love them.” There was another pregnant pause.

  Meg shot Kate an apologetic look, the corners of her mouth moving up slowly. “It was lovely to see you — and I’m always here if you need more flowers.”

  Meg winced as she spoke, which only left Kate more confused. Would the kiss have been a mistake? Would Meg have kissed her back? Was Kate going to drive herself mad thinking about a bunch of ‘what ifs’ for the rest of the evening? Probably.

  “If I do, you’re my first port of call,” Kate said. “I’ll see you around.”

  Meg nodded slowly. “Hope your hand heals soon.”

  Kate gave Meg a final stare, one she hoped was loaded with intent or could just possibly have made her look like a gurning fool. But there was no time to check as Meg had now turned her attention back to her customer, leaving Kate to slope out of the florist feeling more pained than ever.

  16

  Two days later and Kate pulled on her black bomber jacket, ready to head up to north London and have Sunday lunch with her family. Maureen hated cooking roasts, so the pub was their destination.

  When Kate arrived at the Walrus & Carpenter, the troops were already there. Her sister Vicky was looking far more relaxed than the last time she’d seen her, chatting with Mum at one end of the table, while Jack was at the other end, playing cards with Luke and Freddie. The pub was spacious and inviting, with sleek wood, smartly varnished floorboards, crisp curtains and stylishly upholstered seating. Flowers adorned every table and it was Sunday-lunchtime packed.